


Reunion

by lyricalsoul



Series: Hiatus [12]
Category: Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Anger, Granada 'verse - Freeform, M/M, No fainting for this Watson, Oblivious!Sherlock - Freeform, Panic Attacks, Protective!Lestrade, Scenes from The Empty House
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-27
Updated: 2012-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-13 00:05:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/497175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyricalsoul/pseuds/lyricalsoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is back. Watson doesn't react well at all. I think I broke him a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunion

In the tale, The Empty House, I recounted the events of Holmes' return from the dead, and our subsequent capture of Colonel Moran. In that tale, I blithely accepted the return of Sherlock Holmes with nary a harsh word. I did recount that I fainted for the first time in my life, but aside from that bit of melodrama, I welcomed Holmes with open arms, a warm heart, and moved back to Baker Street post-haste.

 

That is not what happened. The real tale is a darker one, and definitely did not end happily. Not at first.

 

****

 

"Watson, do you mind if I smoke in your consulting room?"

 

I turn away from the bookshelf at the familiar tone. My eyes narrow, then widen. "Holmes?"

 

He holds his arms out. "Yes."

 

With a swiftness that surprises me, I bound over to my desk and pull out my revolver. "Hold it right there, whoever you are. Or I will shoot you."

 

"Watson..." he frowns. "You are not hallucinating. It really is me."

 

"But you're dead!" I point the gun at the spot directly between his eyes. "What kind of trick is this?"

 

"No trick," he says, advancing slowly. "I swear it."

 

"Sherlock Holmes is... he died." I inwardly curse myself for stumbling over those words. "Years ago."

 

The consulting room door opens, and Lestrade comes in. "What's the meaning of summoning me in the name of Sherlock Holmes, John?"

 

My hand clutches the gun tighter as I turn it on Lestrade. "What the hell are you talking about?"

 

He doesn't answer. He's staring at this Holmes doppelganger in amazement. "What the devil...?" He whips out his own revolver and points it at the man purporting to be Holmes. "Who the hell are you?"

 

Holmes ignores the question and focuses his all too familiar gaze on Lestrade, then back to me. "Ah, 'John', is it? I take it there have been... developments since I saw you last, Watson?"

 

"You bastard!" I bang the gun down on my desk, and head for him, fists balled. "How dare you!"

 

Lestrade's strong hand on my chest restrains me. "Don't, John."

 

I relax minutely, and back away. "If you are Holmes-"

 

"Again, I assure you that I most certainly am," he interrupts calmly.

 

"Tell me what you said to me the morning you died." I stare at him, hoping with all my heart that this is some joke and that I didn't spend the last four years in hell due to some elaborate hoax on Holmes' part. I take up my gun again. "Get it wrong, and I'll kill you."

 

"I hope that will not be necessary," he says, looking at the gun with a hint of trepidation. Then he looks at Lestrade. "I, ah... in front of Lestrade?"

 

"I've no secrets from him," I say firmly, training the gun at his midsection. "None at all."

 

An eyebrow arches. "Indeed? Very well, then." He takes a deep breath, and lets it out in a hiss. "I told you that I loved you more than life itself and that I wished we could stay locked away in our hotel room forever. And I kissed you then, and you responded in kind. We were standing at the looking glass, my hands on your shoulders."

 

My eyes blur from the sudden welling of tears. "Holmes?"

 

"Yes." Again, he holds out his arms to me.

 

"You fucking bastard!" I push his outstretched arms aside and punch him square in the jaw. The impact knocks him backward into the coat rack, and he grabs it to keep himself from falling. I keep coming toward him, determined to pound him into the floor. "Of all the nerve..."

 

"Don't hit me again, Watson," Holmes pants unsteadily. "Or I'll be forced to thrash you."

 

"Thrash me?" I laugh bitterly, and put the gun to his head. "I'll kill you. Do you understand?"

 

"John, no!" Lestrade steps behind me, and pulls me away. "Please," he implores, forcing my gun arm down.

 

"Dear god," I moan, and let the gun fall from my hand. "What have you done, Holmes? What?" I collapse to my knees and begin rocking back and forth like a madman. "What have you done?"

 

Holmes kneels beside me. "I'm so sorry, Watson. I had no idea you would be so affected."

 

"Not affected? Have you taken leave of your senses, man?" Lestrade asks angrily. He nudges Holmes aside, and joins me on the floor. "John..."

 

"No," I whisper. "No..."

 

Lestrade wraps his wiry arms around me. "It's all right," he says gently, soothingly. "You've come so far... don't let it happen again, John. Please."

 

"I can't... can't..." I gasp, feeling as though my heart may stop at any moment. "Breathe... I can't breathe...!"

 

In an instant, I am flat on my back, arms above my head, Lestrade tilting my head up. "Keep breathing, John! Don't you dare...!" He takes in a sharp breath of his own. "Please..."

 

"Sorry," Holmes whispers. "So sorry..."

 

"Forget the platitudes and press your hand on his chest," I hear Lestrade snap.

 

Holmes' hand presses against my chest firmly, as his eyes bore into mine. "Though this would make a rather delicious sort of irony, Watson, I beg you... please do not die. I couldn't bear it."

 

I gasp again and feel the pressure building in my chest. "I..."

 

"Shh..." Lestrade puts a finger against my lips. "Stop talking and concentrate on breathing."

 

I can't seem to obey. My breathing becomes more rapid, harsher, and my heart feels as though a giant fist is gripping it. I gasp at the pain, I feel my eyes roll back in my head, and then my world goes dark.


End file.
